The Dream of Dancing in the Moonlight
by ShrugDuckie
Summary: This is the story of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, written straight from what JKR told us about their relationship, with a few of my own imaginative touches filling in the blanks. Their journey was anything but easy...


**a/n:** This is the story of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, written straight from the hints and facts that J.K. Rowling told us in _Half-Blood Prince_ about their relationship, with a few of my own imaginative touches. I was never a HUGE Remus/Tonks shipper, but after book six I've grown rather fond of the idea—obviously! I hope you enjoy the story and I would appreciate it if you'd let me know what you think about it by reviewing. Thanks!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Duh.

**_The Dream of Dancing in the Moonlight_**

**_By: Weasley Freckles_**

**Chapter One: Loss**

"HE—IS—NOT—DEAD! SIRIUS!"

Nymphadora Tonks woke with a start, he heart pounding as if she had been running a marathon. Of course, at the moment, she was in absolutely no condition to be so much as running across the room, let alone several miles.

She sighed and stared around her St. Mungo's Ward (Fourth Floor: Spell Damage). Thick droplets of rain were beating against the only window to her right as the last of the spring rain rolled out. Hopeful it would be sunny tomorrow, like it was supposed to be in June. That might help lift some of the misery and guilt off of her aching shoulders.

Tonks had been moved to the wizarding hospital two days ago, as soon as she was pronounced "stable" by Madam Pomfrey. Even though she often sat here and thought about it during the long, boring days in the ward, she had no idea what spell Bellatrix had hit her with to case so much damage. However, according to the Healer in charge, she was making an excellent and quick recovery.

A particularly large raindrop splattered against the window. If only she _felt_ like she was recovering from what had happened in the Department of Mysteries…

Had it been her fault that Sirius Black, her newly found relative and friend, was now dead? Was there some way she could have continued to duel Bellatrix, saving Sirius the trouble of continuing her losing battle? What if she had ducked a split second earlier, or dived to the side out of harm's way? Would Sirius be alive and well back at Grimmauld Place now if this were the case?

Tears filled her large eyes, today, chocolate brown. She was sure that Sirius wouldn't have wanted her to beat herself up over tiny little matters like taking a step to the side or diving out of the way of a possibly deadly spell. But still, she kept thinking about Harry, and how he had lost his godfather. And Remus, about how he had lost his dear friend…

She bit her lip nervously. Remus. She had been thinking about him a lot lately, there was really no point in denying it. After all, they _had _been working together a lot this year on different things for the Order, filling in shifts guarding the prophecy so the other could catch some sleep, living in close proximity with each other…

True, she knew the same could be said about a dozen other Order members. Tonks had also been living in the same area as Sirius, Kingsley, Mad-Eye, Sturgis, Arthur and Molly, and so on. She allowed herself a chuckle, imagining what sort of nut job would fall in love with Mad-Eye Moody. All year Tonks had been trying to learn how to make one of her eyes big and blue and the other small and beady, just to tick him off when he annoyed her. She screwed up her face, trying to do it again—

"That's enough horsing around, Miss Tonks," said the assistant Healer, who had just entered the ward to do her rounds. "You know the chief's orders—"

"I know, I know," Tonks sighed, leaning her elbow on the side of her bed and putting her chin in her hand. "No metamorphosing until I'm completely healed."

"That's right," said the Healer with a nod of approval. The moment she turned away to check the patient in the opposite bed, who has somehow turned his face into a piece of art worthy of Picasso himself, Tonks rolled her eyes. After all, it was her metamorphosing abilities that she prided herself in the most, seeing as it was all thanks to this unique power that she had passed her final Auror test.

As the assistant Healer continued to move down the ward, Tonks's thoughts strayed back to Remus as she stared out at the rain-strewn sky. He was completely selfless, Remus Lupin. Never once thought about himself, always trying to do what was right for everyone. Not nuts about rule-breaking, but once or twice Tonks was able to persuade him to let Sirius run around in the backyard of Grimmauld Place in his dog form. But he was very thoughtful, very kind, very…

"Miss Tonks?"

She jerked her head off her arm so quickly she felt the bones in her neck crack. She bit down hard on her tongue to refrain from cursing.

"What?" she hissed menacingly, massaging her sore ribs as she leaned back on her pillows. Maybe she wasn't healing as fast as the chief Healer thought.

"You have a visitor," said the assistant.

Tonks cocked an eyebrow.

"At this hour?" Tonks said in surprise, looking at the clock at the end of the ward. "It's a quarter past midnight!"

"Highly rude of him, not to mention visiting hours are _well_ over," said the assistant. Tonks tried not to laugh—this Healer reminded her a bit of Hermione, though, she had to admit, Hermione had a far better sense of humor. "But he insisted that he didn't have much free time. Said Albus Dumbledore himself gave him permission to come, as if that has some sort of effect on the way things run in the hospital—"

"Penelope, this is all very fascinating," said Tonks, not bothering to stifle her yawn, "but you could just save your breath by telling me who it is that's come to see me."

Penelope scowled, as if Tonks was way out of line to be ordering around someone as high-class as a Healer's assistant. Tonks smiled wryly, reaching for a goblet of water that was on her bedside table.

"It is Mr. Remus Lupin, Miss Tonks," she answered.

The water glass went skidding across the table and onto the floor, shattering and spilling water everywhere.

"Oh, damn my clumsiness!" Tonks said sincerely, her heart hammering in her chest. "Here, I'll get it Penelope—_Reparo_"

The shards flew back together in the shape of a goblet, sitting serenely on the floor as though it had not just been knocked a foot off a table to its doom.

"A bit jittery, aren't you?" the assistant commented, not bothering to keep the iciness out of her voice. "Shall I let him in?"

Tonks turned to glare at her.

"Well of course you should let him in, you buffoon, he has orders from Albus Dumbledore after all!" Tonks said, waving her arms about wildly, waking up Picasso man across from her. "Unless of course you want to defy Dumbledore's orders—I have yet to meet someone who did _that_ and lived to tell about it…"

Penelope stormed off across the ward and out the door just as Picasso man drifted back off to sleep.

Tonks summoned the glass goblet and caught it lightly in her hand, miraculously without breaking a thing, studying her reflection. No one had come to see her yet, so she hadn't really bothered much with hygiene; there was really no point in looking pretty for Penelope the High and Mighty.

She stared at her hair in her reflection, screwed up her eyes, and concentrated…

_Pop!_ Short, spiky, and bubble-gum pink. Just how she liked it.

The door at the end of the ward opened slightly. Tonks carefully set the glass down on her bedside table, trying to act as if she wasn't excited to see him—a task she was failing at gallantly. She craned her neck ever so slightly to hear what was being said outside the ward.

"I really think I can show myself in, thank you, Miss Clearwater," said a man's voice. "I must say though, before I forget, I've heard that you are doing a wonderful job after Hogwarts! Should be Healer in Chief in a year's time, no doubt!"

"Thank you, Professor, I _am_ working very hard," said Penelope, sounding surprised by his compliment. "Please keep your voice down in there, Mr. Diggle's only just fallen asleep."

"Of course, of course," the man said.

Tonks leaned back on her pillows again, twiddling her thumbs idly as the door shut again and a man with graying hair made his way down the ward to the foot of her bed.

"How are we feeling today, Nymphadora?" Remus asked her, smiling warmly down at her. The laugh lines around his eyes tightened.

"I've told you a dozen times, _don't call me that!_" Tonks said, unable to keep her face straight. His smile was quite infectious.

"May I sit?" Remus asked, conjuring a chair out of nowhere that fell lightly down beside Tonks's bed.

"I suppose, if you must," she said sarcastically. "Why're you here so late, Remus? You should be resting."

Remus shrugged as he lowered himself into the chair.

"Dumbledore has some things he wants me to do tomorrow, so I thought I'd come by and see how you were doing now," he said. "It's not too late is it?"

Tonks made a sound somewhere between a sniff and a snort.

"Late? I don't think so, Remus, you remember how late we were up doing—er—duty…"

She hadn't meant to say it; she didn't want to remind him of the Department of Mysteries, certain that it would be an uncomfortable subject at the present time. Her own happiness of seeing Remus again seemed to ebb away at the mere reminder of the reason they were in the Department that horrible night…

Remus merely chuckled and said, "I suppose you're right. Any news on when you'll be coming back to Grimmauld Place? We could really use our best Auror back, Dumbledore's got a lot of things in the works."

Tonks laughed.

"_Best_ Auror? Hope you don't mean me. _Clumsiest_ Auror, maybe, but certainly not the best."

"Oh, come now. We've all knocked over a pitcher of butterbeer now and then. The fact that you do it more than that is one of your more charming personality quirks. Everyone misses having you around, Tonks, I know I do."

Tonks began fiddling absentmindedly with the corner of her bedspread. He always said sweet little things like that, but she doubted he knew how many times she would replay his words over and over again in her mind before she fell asleep.

"So, how _are_ you feeling?" he asked her seriously.

Tonks shrugged.

"The pain comes and goes," she said, massaging her shoulder. "Nothing that won't go away permanently, though. How about everyone else? Hermione and Ron healing up all right?"

"Hermione's a really trooper, I tell ya," Remus said with a grin. "Madam Pomfrey said she's doing fine, a little anxious to get out of the hospital wing and see what's going on, though. And Ron's healing as well, though she says he could have some permanent scarring."

Tonks made a comment about that being "too bad" or something along those lines before she ventured on into more dangerous waters.

"And Harry?"

Remus broke eye contact with her and sighed.

"I don't know," he answered her honestly. "Sirius was like a father to him, so obviously he's…" He coughed, apparently unable to think of an adjective to describe Harry's feelings at the moment. "Dumbledore said he was decently agitated about everything."

"You can hardly blame him, after all that he's been through this year," Tonks said, shaking her head sadly. "Poor kid…wish there was something to take his mind away from all this rubbish."

Remus nodded but said nothing. Tonks frowned, worried about what he wasn't saying.

"And how are _you_ doing, Remus?" Tonks said, trying to get him to look her in the eye.

He shrugged again, propping his elbows on his knees and folding his hands, staring into space.

"This can't be very easy for you…" Tonks said, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but withdrawing quickly. Her ribs hadn't healed well enough to stretch that far.

"Hey, lean back," Remus said, standing up and guiding her gently back against her pillows. "No need for you to hurt yourself worse on my account. I'm doing just fine."

He sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at the floor, lost in thought. Tonks shook her head.

"No you're not," she said before she could stop herself.

Remus sighed.

"I know."

Tonks reached out and took his hand in hers. He stared down at their fingers curiously as she said, "I'm sure this is very hard for you, Remus. He was one of your best friends. I just wanted you to know that—that I miss him, too, and—and if you need someone—you know, to talk to…I'm here, okay?"

Remus looked up. Tonks could see the misery in his pale blue eyes. It was as if he was dying on the inside.

"It's just…" he began. But he stopped, shaking his head and staring at the floor.

"What, Remus?" Tonks urged him on, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb.

"It's just…he was the last one left, you know?" he said. "It was like this when James died. I thought he was the traitor and…and a murderer. Obviously, I regret that now…"

"Remus, there was no way you could have known that it was Pettigrew!" said Tonks, so eager to prove her point that she sat up fiercely. She felt a searing pain shoot through her spine. "Ouch!"

Remus looked over at her in alarm.

"Relax, it's okay," he said, helping her lean back again and rubbing her shoulder gently. "I'll be all right, please don't worry about me. Just concentrate on getting better, okay?"

Tonks nodded, unable to speak as she breathed deeply, her back aching horribly. He stood to leave.

"Remus, don't go…" she said, shutting her eyes in attempt to block out the pain in her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…to upset you…"

"You don't upset me," Remus said gently, sitting back down in his chair and taking her hand in both of his. "If you upset me, I wouldn't have come to see how you were doing. In fact, if you want to know the truth, I came as much for you as for me."

"What do you mean?" Tonks said, her eyes still closed. She was feeling a little tired.

"Well…it's nice to know that you're not alone," Remus answered her. "I didn't have that last time. You always make me smile, Tonks."

Tonks grinned though her fatigue.

"That's what I'm here for," she said. "To make others feel better about themselves."

Remus laughed.

"I'll wait until you fall asleep, then I better get going," he said.

"Remus?" Tonks yawned.

"Yes?"

She placed her other hand on top of both of his.

"Thanks for coming," she said. "And don't forget, you aren't alone. I'm here."

Remus smiled.

"I won't forget."

And with her hand in his, Tonks drifted off to sleep. Remus sat there for a moment watching her before he disentangled their fingers, vanished his chair, and began to make his way towards the exit. He turned for one last look at her sleeping form before he opened the door to go.

"I couldn't forget if I tried," he said.

He took his wand out of his pocket, ran it through his fingers a couple times, thinking. Finally, he pointed it at Tonks's bedside table and muttered a couple of words. At last, he turned to go. He needed to meet with Dumbledore before the clock tolled two and let him know how Tonks was doing.

* * *

Sunlight was pouring through the window in the morning when Tonks opened her eyes. She blinked, trying to make the light go away so she could go back to sleep. Damn Penelope, she had probably opened the curtains on purpose so Tonks would wake up at this ungodly hour…

She yawned and rubbed her eyes, sitting up straight on her pillows. Her heart lifted slightly at the thought that her back didn't hurt so much today.

Thinking of a cool drink of water, Tonks turned to her bedside table to fill her goblet when she suddenly froze.

There, sitting on the table, was a single, slightly wilted, long-stem rose. She reached out a long-fingered hand to pick it up and saw that a small scroll was attatched to it. Curious, she unrolled it and read:

_Dear Tonks,_

_Hope you are feeling better this morning. Thanks for our talk last night, I really needed it. Get well soon, we miss you._

_Remus_

She smiled, placing the note aside and fingering the petals of the rose lovingly, wondering how in the world she could have wanted to go back to sleep on such a beautiful morning.


End file.
